


Recuperation and Healing

by lovelytimes



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 18:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17924039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelytimes/pseuds/lovelytimes
Summary: This is an an unused remnant of The Flame of Melkor. I am unsure where to post so here it is. Summary: I test my new recuperative powers on an elf.  Can i heal him? We shall see.Some warped hurt-comfort since I am the one who does the hurting.





	Recuperation and Healing

"There is something I have been meaning to explore.  And I will test I on you. Left or right?,” He reached up in the direction of the Noldor captive’s manacled hands.

“Left or right what? What do you mean?" The elf was trembling with uncertainty, “What are you going to do?”

“Left it is then! You two, hold him still,” he commanded two nearby servants, and gleefully they complied to restrain the Noldo. “You see, elf, I have been recently given some healing arts, but I have yet to explore all of mine recuperative potential. Since you’re here and so… willing, an opportunity for exploration has presented itself,”

“No please! Don’t…,”such terror manifested at the unknown.

“It is for the benefit of Angband. You should feel honored.  Don’t you want mine soldiers to be healed? I must know the limits of mine reparative capabilities, don’t you think?” Tightly held fast to near complete mobility the elf was as Melkor grasped his hand and the Vala's accomplices griped him with bruising force.

The knife.

Melkor squeezed the Noldo’s left hand so tightly as the sharp edged blade alighted against a digit.

The intent was clear. The Dark One meant to amputate an elven finger in some cruel experiment of injury and attempt at curative healing.

“Dear Eru, No! No! Please stop. Can’t you do this on someone else?”

The potential of an alternative path surprised the Vala, “Interesting suggestion, a dark eyebrow raised, "Hmm. I do not usually change mine plans once I have fixed my will on them. What will you do for me if I experiment on not you, but another?”

“Anything! Anything!”

A sigh. “Such a typical reply. So basic. They _all_ say that. So common. Promises made under duress never hold. Plus, you are mine enemy, so you would ultimately betray me.”

“No! No! I would be… willing for you," long elf lashes dropped low in shame.

Melkor tapped his chin as though pensive, “No, you have nothing to offer me,”

“No, don’t,” the sobs were pathetic. Melkor loathed cowardly pleading as he tied a merciful tourniquet of leather around the elf’s index finger. With wicked glee, the Correupted Vala was proceeding in his twisted endeavor of pain and healing. Or attempted healing for truly Melkor did not not know if he could heal or regrow the amputated digit of another.

“Come now, can you see how I’m ensuring that this is not… messy. I seek to stop the flow of your wretched blood when i amputate,” he sighed, “Would you want that I suppress your pain?" Melkor thought himself to be most generous.

Sobs, “Please no pain!”

“Your pain is not the objective here. Truly this is only an experiment. Pah! It’s just a finger fool!” and a glow of the Vala's power surrounded his hand in a flash of suppression of the elf’s agony. _I am too kind,_ thinketh Melkor.

Still, the absence of pain did not mean a lack of sensation for the Noldo felt the cold edge of the blade, the hard push of its razored edge as it sliced through flesh, the hot trickle of blood, no gushing pulses thanks to the tourniquet. And fear. Great fear. Rightly then the elf screamed horridly in echoing anguish.

“Stop it now, elf!” 

More screams.

“Don’t do that! No ridiculous tears!” A great crunching slap sent the Eldar twisting in the manacles, “Fucking weak thing!” and Melkor moved to heal the preposterous elf. _Useless!_

Most curious now, the finger did not regrow. It merely faded into existence, the previous digit pale with gore-laden bluntless on the floor.  Slowly then, the new finger simply re-appeared as the panting elf steadied his will to still himself.  _Excellent result,_ thought the Vala, _I can regrow limbs of mine servants, or at least a finger. More experimentation is in order._

“Bend it,”

“What?” ashen was the elf and limply boneless.

“Bend. Your. Finger.” _Noldor are so stupid!_

Comply now did the elf as he stretched his renewed digit.

“What do you say?” Melkor asked in the manner of a parent teaching a child manners.

The elf now knew what to speak to the Corrupted Vala. Guided as he was from previous... instructions, the Noldo rightly gauged what Melkor wished to hear, “Thank you," he breathed.

“Excellent!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Methinks I am too kind to suppress the elf's pain. M. Bauglir


End file.
